Izzy cries out with pain, of course he does, it fucking hurts. Breathy at first before he grits his teeth against it and breathes hard. He can take it.

Any other person might struggle or push back. Might drop to their knees and scream and wriggle.

Not Izzy Hands. It hurts, yes, but in a sick way, he likes it. He likes it when Edward exerts his power. He likes the blade in Edward's voice like a dagger against his throat. The hum of danger just under his skin.

There's no word in Israel's vocabulary to explain the fact that he is, in fact, an enormous brat, but that's exactly what he is and if you want him to listen then this is the key.

"Yes Blackbeard, yes. Yes." Hoarse but true.

And he does listen. He listens hard, gasping to stop any other noise from escaping his throat. His teeth are clenched, but through the pain comes a smile, and he wrenches his head back to look over his shoulder. Edward wouldn't kill him. He knows he wouldn't.

The boat doesn't need Blackbeard. It needs someone better.

No it fucking doesn't, and Izzy doesn't either. Someone just has to remind Edward of that. Of who he really is.

"I thought I'd lost you."